The last thing Nathan remembered was sitting back into the comfy armchair within the extra room at Arnold’s tavern. Cleo was in the bed, already asleep. He had a thin blanket tossed over him, his neck leaning back at an uncomfortable angle, too tired to support it properly.

Then he was asleep.

And then he… wasn’t?

Dark water lapped hungrily at the creaking sides of the small wooden boat. An unlit candle swayed violently in its metal cage as the deck rocked back and forth, suspended by ropes from a singular, tall wooden poll. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sulfur. Black clouds roiled angrily within the sky, lit by occasional flashes of lightning

Nathan was standing, stripped bare to his waist, a tattered cloth the only thing preventing him from being completely nude. He found himself holding tightly to a decaying wooden oar. Frigid spray wetted his skin, sending shivers across his exposed arms and legs. He felt strangely steady on the deck despite it lilting back and forth like a drunken sailor.

This place was familiar. He’d been here before, back when he’d died. Yes, he was beginning to remember. But that time he’d first been beneath the waves. Choking on icy water and struggling to reach the surface. Now, he was the one on the boat. He was the Ferryman.

Why am I back here? He was barely able to hear his own thoughts over the roar of wind, crashing of waves, and strikes of deadly lightning. It was as if he was stuck in a hurricane. Is this a dream?

“Why am I here?” he screamed futilely into the dark.

Another thunderous boom echoed across the night sky. At the same time, a massive wave splashed into the starboard side of the rickety boat, knocking Nathan to his feet. He caught the side of the ship, gripping the slick wood in his hands. He stared up into the roiling clouds and felt like a child looking up at a disapproving father.

The clouds shifted. Bulges of billowing black grew out of them like boils ready to burst. Great swaths were drawn across the sky like the strokes of a master painter that only used shades of obsidian gray. And from them, Nathan saw a face.

It could only have been the face of a god. The creator of the very sky giving a mortal a glimpse of the vastness of their grandeur. Nathan had never felt so small.

The sheer immensity of it was impossible. Everywhere he looked was the unnatural, yet perfect curve of this gargantuan face, staring down at him with eyes like stars. The sea still shook, rocking with an anger. A fury. It was as if every fiber of the world was focused on the image that had graced them with its presence.

Nathan could do nothing but gape.

Why was he here? What a foolish question. A mortal should not question the whims of a being as mighty as one that fills the sky.

And then it spoke.

You are not fulfilling your duty.

The words thrummed through Nathan’s core, shaking his bones. It was as if someone had plucked the threads within him with the strength of a thousand men.

He fell down to his knees, dropping the oar, his hands splashing in the shallow water that sloshed around the inside of the boat, gasping for breath. The taste of iron coated his tongue.

“That is why you are here.”

The same voice sounded just above Nathan’s head, closer, gentler. Like a whisper a thousand miles away, but heard just as clearly. Nathan looked up, tilting his head to find himself staring directly at someone's bare shins. There hadn’t been anyone else on the boat just moments ago.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

A strong hand cupped Nathan’s chin and urged him to his feet. Despite being a tall man himself, once he was standing Nathan found himself only up to the man’s chest.

This figure was nothing like the one that Nathan had first seen on this boat several nights ago. Instead of skeletal and frightening, this man was built like a bodybuilder, rippling muscles covering his chest and arms while curly black hair spilled from his head. An olympian posture. His skin was shimmering with oil and his eyes regarded Nathan with a warmth that bordered on familial. He gave off a rich, earthy musk, like freshly tilled soil or a long untouched tomb.

Icy rain pelted down upon the both of them, but to this man, it might as well have been a warm shower. In a graceful motion, he raised one hand to the sky and everything stilled instantaneously. It was as if the world had been captured in a picture.

The very droplets of rain, hung suspended in the air like thousands of gemstones. A crack of lightning struck down from sky to sea, frozen like glass. The ship was stuck in a permanent slight slope to the left as a furious wave was stopped in the middle of rocking it. A display of unimaginable power.

The man turned slowly, letting his arm drop to his side in a casual motion. His back was just as broad and impressive as his chest, as if every part of him had been chiseled from stone. Nathan’s first thought was how the tiny boat was even supporting this man’s weight. But that was a foolish thought when the man could freeze the world.

“Do you know what happens when the rain stops falling?” the man sighed in a deep, husky voice and Nathan was once again reminded of a father. He reached out and took one of the raindrops from the air. It rolled between his forefinger and thumb like a marble of glass.

When Nathan did not answer, too stunned to speak, the man looked back over his shoulder with a curious look.

“That was not a rhetorical question, Ferryman. Answer.”

It took a moment for Nathan to find his voice. “I… uh… I don’t know,” was all that he could stammer.

“There is a drought. Crops wither. Rivers dry up. Prosperous forests are reduced to desolate wastelands. Everything dies, and nothing returns.” The man turned back to face Nathan and Nathan felt the sudden urge to cower, however he stood strong.

There was something terrifying about being so close to this figure. Like standing before the sun.

“It is a tragedy of the greatest degree.” The man paused, staring at Nathan with such intensity that he was forced to avert his eyes, dropping his gaze to the ground.

Then his voice darkened. “And you are causing a drought.” He dropped the orb of water and it shattered onto the deck like glass.

For the briefest of moments before it shattered, Nathan thought he saw himself reflected in the crystal smooth surface of the water droplet. Fear etched onto his reflected features, but then it was gone.

“Do you understand?” the man said.

Nathan forced words out of his throat. “I… don’t think I could begin to–”

“You are a piece in the cycle. The sun evaporates the water. The water rises into the air, forming the clouds. And the clouds return the water as rain. Remove a piece and the whole thing collapses.”

He narrowed his eyes and his voice took on an altogether more menacing tone. “You are a piece that has removed itself. Fulfill your part.”

He clapped his hands together, his expression becoming warm and familial once again. The rain started to fall, the sea churned and rocked the boat, the lightning finished its arc. Turmoil returned to the world and Nathan stumbled, barely catching himself from falling by grabbing onto the man’s arm.

“Now I must go,” he said, looking down at Nathan. “We all have a part to play.”

Nathan blinked and the man was gone. He was alone on the rocking boat, alone in the storm.

The image of the man and the words he had spoken filled his mind. They rang inside, echoing, consuming his thoughts.

Nathan stared up at the sky, but there was nothing. Just clouds and rain.

I killed the Ferryman, he thought, Charnun.

And then I gained his – its class. At first I thought nothing of it. I’d just taken the reins of my life, made my own decision. But it seems that decision has further reaching consequences than just me.

A cycle? Birth and death? But how do I even continue that, how do I place myself back in it?

And more importantly…

He gulped nervously as another spray of water washed over his trembling frame.

What happens if I don’t?